


Like Morning Follows Night

by dustsommelier



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Game Spoilers, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Loss, Loss of Parent(s), M/M, Slight flirting between the wild cards ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-16 23:52:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13064799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustsommelier/pseuds/dustsommelier
Summary: Go where you need toKnow I won't leave youI'll follow you like morning follows nightYou can run till your pain's throughOne thing I won't doIs to let you go alone to face the fightSlight Akeshu/Shuake Song fic





	Like Morning Follows Night

**Author's Note:**

> Italics = Akira/Joker  
> Bold = Goro  
> Both italics and bold = Both Akira and Goro

**You don't know what it's like to live in shadows**

 

“Poor boy… His mother had no concern for the child she’d leave behind,”

“Don’t give him your sympathy. I heard she had him out of wedlock. It’s her own fault his father left them to fend for themselves…”

 

The passing of Goro’s mother wasn’t followed by the usual. There was no funeral for him to give his last farewells or grieve his loss. Instead, he watched as strangers flooded their tiny, cramped home and take her away in a large, black bag. The emergency personnel didn’t bother with him. They, instead, let him watch as his small world crumpled before his eyes. To make matters worse, their neighbors didn’t even dare to approach, to offer words of sympathy, only standing back to loudly murmur to one another what kind of woman his mother was.

 

“I heard she hardly ever fed the poor kid. I’m glad that he’s now free from that abuse,”

“She was never a good person. It was about time her sins caught up to her, I’d say,”

 

These people… They talked like they knew what kind of person she was. Like they knew what his father did to them. Like they knew them like God knows everyone. Despite all that they lacked in wealth and food, she had in affection for her son. She put on a fake smile for him, day after day, so he could perhaps forget about all the bad things that have happened to them. And when they did have anything to eat, most of it would end up in his hands upon her will. 

 

But now that he knows all that she was hiding under that facade, everything seemed to scatter about. All of his memories of her became scrambled, his life jerked to a screeching halt, and he seamlessly disapeared into the shadows of the world.

 

**Always regretting what you've done**

 

“What’s your problem, huh?!”

 

In attempt to defend himself from the other orphan, who was accompanied by others, Goro mistakenly shoved them to the concrete sidewalk, scraping up their hands and knees. He knew well that the bully was a tough kid, never showed any soft emotions, yet the kid gave his best, yet most pathetic, fake wails of pain. His eyes were wide and his whole body was frozen in its tracks as the others slowly began to close in around him.

 

“What makes you think you can  _ push _ others like that?” His body was shoved into the ones behind him and grubby hands grabbed ahold of his ratty shirt.

 

“No wonder your mommy killed herself. You’re such a good-for-nothing load of crap!” The one he pushed down was already back on his feet, perfectly fine and with a huge, intimidating grin on his face. When flung in his direction by the other kids, he extended his leg and kicked Goro square in the stomach, bringing him to his knees on the cold sidewalk, choking and coughing.

 

The afternoon light dissipated from above as they grew closer and closer around him. Feet began to kick at every inch of his body. Hands grabbed at his shirt, punched him, pulled his hair. His sobs were heard by no one but his attackers and himself, their mischievous, taunting snickers drowning out his pleas for help.

 

**Spending time counting every little mistake**

 

“I’m disappointed, Akechi-kun. I expected so much more of you,”

 

C+. The bright, red, a big letter scratched across his essay stung in his vision. He thought this was by far his best work yet, having spent several nights over the week to bring to perfection in his eyes. Instead, every part he thought would win him the A+ was marked with comments in the same harsh shade of red ink in almost every blank space there was.

 

His foster parents won’t be too pleased. He was always able to get average grades, which led them to give satisfactory nods and requests to try harder. If they didn’t offer any sympathy, he wouldn’t be surprised. Hell, even getting grounded wouldn’t either.

 

He would just have to spend that time learning from his mistakes, so he’ll never disappoint anyone again.

 

**Knowing it's always easier to run**

 

“My apologies for staying past closing. I’ll be leaving now,”

 

The lanky Shujin boy glanced up from cleaning a coffee cup, in a bit of shock at Goro’s words. He watched as the detective prince retrieved his briefcase from the stool beside him, hoping a rebuttal would come to his lips, but none did as he watched him leave, the ringing of LeBlanc’s bell sending a pang of guilt down the boy’s spine.

 

The saturated celebrity gave a deep sigh as he turned the corner towards the train station, fingers tight around the handle of his briefcase. Again, he found that he said too much. He was burdening a near stranger with the hints of his childhood. It was best he didn’t tell more if they ever ran into each other again.

 

_ You don't have to spend your life looking backward _

 

“Apparently, my mother was in a relationship with some low-life of a man,”

 

Akechi’s talking down of himself led to a bit of oversharing. This sudden load of small, yet heavy emotional baggage caught Akira off-guard. How his biological father abandoned him and his mother and how his departure gave her the reason she took her own life, He really didn’t know what to say. And as quick as he opened his heart to him, he slammed the doors shut, moving onto the current events of Medjed and the Phantom Thieves.

 

The rest of their conversation went as normal as one would have suspected. Complementing the coffee, discussing the whimsical thing called Fate, then attempting again one short time to give his heart, only to close it once more. 

 

The older boy was about to leave, bare hand wrapped around the cafe’s door handle, when Akira’s voice called out to him. His detective prince facade remained as he turned his head to him and responded in his fake, cheery voice, almost like his mother used to do.

 

“Keep looking forward,”

 

Akechi almost lost his grip on his emotions, his maroon eyes wide in slight shock, but was able to keep on his flashy, celebrity smile. He gave his thanks and complimented the simplicity of Akira’s quote, gave another farewell and left LeBlanc.

 

He would hope his few words would stay fresh in Akechi’s mind. But instead, an unspoken counter echoed.

 

“If only it were that easy…”

 

_ We've been through this over and over again _

 

“Akechi,”

 

Once again, the detective prince was perched in a seat at LeBlanc’s counter, a cup of Sojiro’s delectable coffee in front of him. Akira could tell by the way he stumbled to barely save his coffee from being tipped over when he called to him that there was something up. The way he grew uncharacteristically quiet once the politician on the cafe’s TV began speaking told him there was something about the middle-aged man that caused Akechi to zone out the way he did just then.

 

“U-Uh, yes? What is it?” For Akechi, the older boy may have been able to slip his mask back on before anyone could tell a thing, but between the moment Akira said his name to when they he gave a slightly shaken response, it was futile to pretend now.

 

Akira gave a small shrug, Morgana shifting in his school bag as it moved with his shoulders. “Just wondering if you’re alright,” He half-mumbled, but put forth the effort to give a soft smile, despite all the concern that welled up within his heart for him.

 

“Oh. Yes, I’m alright,” Straightening his striped tie, Akechi recomposed himself and returned his elbow to the cafe counter. “My mind just wandered off for a moment, is all. Your concern warms my heart,” Again, there was that fabricated smile. Akira knew there was something between him and that politician, but he didn’t think digging deeper in front of others was appropriate, considering what his own mind itself wandered off into assuming. Instead, he gave a saddened, yet honest reply.

 

“Don’t be a stranger,”

 

_ You can't just wish it away _

 

“Because of sickening human beings....”

 

The tone in Akechi’s voice, the way he ever-so-slightly clenched his gloved fists, peaked Akira’s interest. As he stared at the older boy’s face, he could see his eyebrows furrow and his lips form a frown, a bit of a new mask compared to what he’s seen him like before.

 

“Yes. My contempt for such people drives my sense of justice,” The way Akechi spat out ‘such people’ made it seem like someone had slipped something in his drink and he was attempting to spit it out before any damage could be done. “It isn’t for some grand reason like society’s sake or some lofty ideal,” He gently shook his head, his chestnut hair whipping a bit from side to side. He didn’t take any notice to Akira’s gaze being locked onto him, never wavering, as he turned his chin down to look at his brown loafers.

 

“It’s simply an absurd grudge. And extremely personal,”

 

By how little Akechi’s clenched fists trembled and his gaze burned a hole into the ground, Akira knew more about his reasonings than he told them. None of the other Phantom Thieves noticed this, indicated by Ann moving on the conversation to discuss how he was like the rest of us, wanting to get back at rotten adults who have forsaken us. 

 

But he wasn’t. The rest of them were able to let each other shoulder the burden with them, work together to bring justice to those harmed like them. But Akechi… 

 

He was suffering alone.

 

_ The past is the past it’ll never change _

 

Being a detective in a division of the Tokyo PD, Akechi had all sorts of access. Of course, not as much as Sae-san, being his senior and all, but he at least has access to past and present records. So of course he took the opportunity to take a peek at  _ that  _ case file.

 

Opening the vanilla folder in the records room indeed reopened old wounds. Seeing the over a decade old photo of his mother, sent chills down his spine, but not as much as the photos of the scene. Of his mother’s dead, lifeless body sitting in a bathtub of bloody water. 

 

Knowing more now than he did then, when he discovered her body back on that day, the rush of strong emotions was quicker, more painful than the last time he saw this display. His heart was catching in his throat. He could feel tears coming on. 

 

He didn’t have much innocence when he was younger. He knew what it meant to be dead. He knew his mother wasn’t even going to come back. He knew from the moment they carried her out of their home in a black body bag that she wasn’t.

 

But seeing her fair-skinned face, her light chestnut hair in her photo ID, comparing it to her colorless, cold skin and ratted, damp hair in the crime scene photos, he wish it wasn’t so. From the bottom of his dark, soiled heart, he hoped that one day she would return to him, bring him to his knees and heal all that the past 12 years had done to him within milliseconds. 

 

Give him a reason to live again...

 

_ That was before, this is now and when _

 

Akechi entered LeBlanc and sat down at his usual seat at the counter with only a single, plan “Hello,” as he waited for Akira to brew up his usual. The sound of water boiling, beans grinding, and cream pouring, accompanied by the smell of it all, seemed to bring Akechi back down to a more calmer state, but Akira could see it took some courage for him to come in today. He could tell all that just by how he kept his gaze down and away from his and spoke no words.

 

The detective seemed to be half asleep-half awake, showing signs of zoning out while waiting for his coffee to be served when Akira gingerly placed it in front of him and he had to slightly shake himself out of his daze. He awkwardly moved his elbow off of the cafe counter, his gaze wandering, attempting to not catch Akira’s, but failed as he met the dark, gray pupils from behind fake glasses. 

 

Shifting uncomfortably in the chair, he cleared his throat with a closed fist on his lips and gave a weak smile. “Thanks,” His voice inflicted many emotions: guilt, withdraw, loneliness. Most would ask what was up with him, ask where his shining, detective prince personality was on this equally pleasant afternoon. But Akira knew exactly what was up.

 

“You know…” His words didn’t catch Akechi’s attention, so he cleared his throat and he whipped his head up to him from his deep gaze into the swirls of cream in his coffee. “Boss said many times it was alright,”

 

The older boy tried to play dumb, adding a quizzical brow to the rest of his gloomy expression. 

 

“It wasn’t the first time a customer had broken a cup,” Akira reminded him of what had happened the last time he was here, his voice low. “And it definitely won’t be the last,” He only dared to inch his face a little closer to Akechi’s, looking deep into his dark, maroon eyes as they came to realization. Then they changed to show a pang of a guilt at the remembrance.

 

“Yes…” Akechi’s voice only lowered more than it was moments earlier. “I know that,” He averted his gaze from the curious Shujin boy by turning his head to the left, moving it to the small bookshelf nearby as he took a delicate sip of his freshly brewed coffee. Akira got it correct, but it tasted bitter more than it should have.

 

He would have cursed for all of Tokyo to hear if Akira putting his hand atop the one he had laying on the counter caused him to break a second coffee cup. A heat that wasn’t from his drink rose in him as he spilled a bit and whipped his head back to the younger boy. He didn’t know Akira had such long lashes until then.

 

“Then quit your worrying, Akechi,”

 

_ We have a chance to make it better if we try _

 

“And once Shido confesses his crimes, you’ll all be heroes,”

 

It was long as much as it was painful, both physically and mentally, but they had Akechi on the cold, ship floor, doned in his black mask attire, slightly moaning in pain. Although that was their sign of victory against the true culprit, the one who caused all those mental shutdowns, Akira felt anything but triumphant. How the boy, once a beloved celebrity was now in shambles, reflected how much his plan was all for naught.

 

“As for me, people will find out my past deductions were just charade,” Akechi struggled over his words, both from defeat and shame. “My fame and trust will vanish,” His tone spoke volumes, revealing that those two things were the only things he had and now, if they went on to steal Shido’s heart, would be taken from him. A small, yet telling chuckle, one that was befitting of someone in his situation, rose from his throat, too pathetic to even bother completing.

 

Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Except this might was never as strong as they presented themselves to be.

 

Akechi was now fully aware that he has blood on his hands, innocent lives that were unrightfully taken by him. In the eyes of the law, he was a criminal, a felon, a murderer. As to the rest of the ordinary world: a heartless monster. One who deserves the worst capital punishment there is. 

 

If the world only knew the whole story, if everyone didn’t see the world in black and white, they’d realize they’re at fault too. Society is what drew this broken child to cold-blooded murder. They denied him so many things that he needed in order to stay sane, to keep him from what he eventually did. 

 

In the end, it was never truly his fault.

 

“Goro,”

 

Society’s victim jerked his head up to look at Akira. The black mask he adorned, like the face of a true crow, was shattered on one side, right below the eye hole. A sickeningly perfect way to watch the tears fall down the boy’s battered face. His maroon eyes, dull and cold only moments ago, sparkled like newborn innocence from the tears as they gazed widely up at Joker.

 

“Now that you’ve come to your senses, now is a better time than ever to make up for what you’ve done,” Akira’s heels clicked on the metal floor, echoing throughout the engine room, as he slowly and gently walked towards the fallen foe. “You’ll be able to rest easy if you did,”

 

Akira was only a few feet away from him when he stopped advancing and held out a gloved, red hand. With all the emotions still storming within him, Akechi just sat there, on his knees, dumbfounded. 

 

The waves hitting the side of the ship and the engine roaring was all that echoed. Things were moving slow for Akechi, as he looked up at Akira, expecting the worse. But instead, got better.

 

“Come with us,” He spoke softly, a gentle smile on his face. “We’ll help you make everything right,”

 

**Oh, but I will not endanger one more friend**

 

Goro thought he was going to start hysterically sobbing, his eyes widening more and watering. But instead, he forced himself to break his gaze from Joker, throwing his head down and grasping the sides with his clawed hands. 

 

“N-No!” He shouted, almost wailing, as he wildly shaked his head back and forth. “I will not drag you into this!” Many thoughts raced through his head, some of when he’d forsaken the few old friends he had, but most of how much he’d done to his mother. 

 

“I’ll only hurt you more!” He was now shaking his whole body, side to side, every inch of him trembling. The tears were coming now. And soon, the maniac sobs would follow.

 

_ You're free to do the things you want _

 

“This ain’t about what Shido says! You’re your own person! You gotta know that!”

 

Akira could swear Ryuji read his mind right then. Because that was exactly he was going to say.

 

From the moment Shido abandoned Akechi and his mother, the boy’s life belonged to nobody but him and him alone. The only person keeping him down was himself. He was letting himself be brought down by what others thought, like they knew his whole story, like they knew what kind of man Shido is. Akira doesn’t even know the half of it and feels that Akechi deserved more than this. 

 

He deserved to be free, to be himself. No…

 

He’s allowed to be.

 

_ But listen, so am I _

 

“You don’t allow yourself to be enslaved by such things such as human relations or past selves…”

 

As always, Akechi was very perspective. He could read people like books and put what he knows of them into words like it was child’s play. But, there is and always will be one person he’d never be able to comprehend...

 

“And so, your heart is always free. The exact opposite of mine. To be honest, I’m envious…”

 

...Himself.

 

“But…” He let out the slightest of exasperated sigh, averting his eyes downwards from Joker. “It’s no use talking in hypotheticals,” His eyes seemed to stare directly through the floor of the ship, gazing sharply into one single area near Joker’s feet. He was still as a stone, letting his words hang in the air.

 

That’s where he was a hypocrite, other than with his past indirect remarks about the Phantom Thieves. Akira with Akecki knew that he could be too. 

 

**I made my choice**

 

“All this is to make Masayoshi Shido… my father… acknowledge me. Then exact my revenge on him,”

 

How the patriarchal title was a struggle for Akechi to even mutter, how the anger from within his heart poured out into his words. Akira could see how much he was struggling to keep his stuffing from seeping out of his weakened seams. 

 

But no matter what, he could see that, for the past two years, Akechi made his act of revenge his life. His heart had been set. He’s had his made up his mind. Akira didn’t like to give up so soon in the fight for the boy’s future, but he felt it would take a miracle to convince him otherwise. 

 

The ‘ace’ detective was long gone. There was nothing left for anyone to salvage.

 

_ And now I'm making mine _

 

“Change Shido’s heart… in my stead… End his crimes…”

 

Everyone grew quiet as they awaited Joker’s reply. But the leader remained still and silent.

 

“Please…!”

 

What Akechi just did was simply foolish, letting his guilt get the better of him and refuse him the right to try and communicate a deal. But at a time like this, Akira couldn’t complain. Not when there wasn’t much time left for the sick politician’s son.

 

He gave a solid nod. Despite the receiver being unable to see, he gave a bittersweet smile.

 

“I promise,”

 

His wish will be his. He will do it. For Goro Akechi.

 

**_Go where you need to_ **

**_Know I won't leave you_ **

**_I'll follow you like morning follows night_ **

**_You can run_ ** **_till your pain's through_ **

**_One thing I won't do_ **

**_Is to let you go alone to face the fight!_ **

 

**Hard to know where to turn when your life's a disaster**

 

“Hey, let’s go see a movie after school today!”

“No way! Did he really do that to you?!”

“Wow, your lunch looks delish!”

 

Despite choosing a spot far from where most of his peers sat, Goro could still hear their chatter and gossiping.  Out of all the things that students do at a school, lunch has probably got to be most favorite among all. Especially since you can leave the stuffy classroom and see friends from other classes and years. The sounds of laughter and comradery was plentiful in the school’s atmosphere as everyone seemed to have someone to be with, even some of the quiet kids.

 

But it wasn’t like that for him.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a group of giggling girls, all huddled shoulder to shoulder, seeming to take a peek or two at him every-so-often. When he caught one of their gaze’s, the girl turned away in giddy embarrassment, her friends reprimanding her for missing her ‘grand opportunity’. Another one of them looked his way and was met with his gaze, but didn’t falter like her friend did. So Goro just gave a gleaming smile and a short wave. She gave a quick wave back, an awkward smile on her face, before turning back to her friends and getting all squealy. 

 

He turned back to his lunch: a simple bento with no sort of cute design with it. But before he could take another bite, one of the girls approached him, cheeks as red as fresh roses. Turning his gaze up to her, he awaited words with a patient gaze, only for her to keep meeting his gaze and quickly looking away. When he went to speak, he was cut off by the sudden shove of a small envelope in his face. 

 

Giving a small laugh, he gave another one of his detective prince smiles. “Thank you!” Taking it in his gloved hands, he gave the impression of compassion towards the gesture, but he’s seen and dealt with these things many times before. The letter was always a love letter, ones that either spoke of the gushy infatuations they had over him or how they loved his detective work. Either one was nice to hear, but always gave him the fleeting feeling of belongingness.

 

His smartphone buzzed just as the girl ran off without a word and her face in her hands. Retrieving it from his coat pocket, he shouldn’t have been disappointed at who it was. Because it was the only person that ever really needed to contact him anyways.

 

Answering and putting the phone up to his ear, he let the man he both desired love from and wanted dead speak with mighty demand of him. Another target he wanted Goro to take out in the Metaverse. The man was straight-forward with his orders for the boy and hang up without so much as a goodbye.

 

The new target was... His heart felt a bit of tightening in his chest.

 

He clenched the sides of his cell phone, only the sign of intense focus on his face, but on the inside, he was torn. Whatever was in this love letter, he had to disregard. It was either him or the girl’s father. And he knew, deep in his heart, it wasn’t going to be him.

 

The lunch bell rang and he discarded the letter in a trashcan as he walked by.

 

**Trying to start all over again**

 

Once this is all over, he would be free.

 

Free from Shido’s emotional prison. From what he had done to him and his mother. His mother would be avenged and finally able to rest easy, knowing that the man who destroyed her life has gotten what he deserved. He could finally be himself. He could do what he could have never done before. His life would start anew.

 

...But what would he do then?

 

He would no longer have use for his Personas’ powers; The only things that got him to the popularity he has now. Because he made up crimes just to solve them himself. There wasn’t anything that he’d sleuthed that he didn’t know the real truth about… or wasn’t the real culprit behind it all. 

 

No matter what he did with his nearing future, he would always have innocent blood on his hands, dripping onto and staining everything he touched. It would follow him for years to come. And even knowing this, he kept doing it for years, never seeing the whole picture and the consequences that would follow.

 

He was better off dead than with a future at this point.

 

**So much shame, so much time that just feels wasted**

 

It was all a lie.

 

His mother was lying to him. Every second she was alive and breathing, she lied to him. With that bright, gentle smile that always gave him warmth, she never showed him her true face, her true colors. He never knew the pain she was going through just to keep the two of them afloat.

 

Her eyes. The more Goro thought about them in the days following her death, he came to realize that they never really matched what her voice and smile were saying. They always lacked that certain glow. When she was smiling with her lips, she was never smiling with her eyes. Her deep, brown eyes just stayed dull and lifeless, almost like they were when he found her.

 

They tell people to mourn for lost loved ones, but he was starting to question if his mother ever really loved him. Sure, she would give him most of the food they managed to get their hands on, and from time to time, she would reassure him… But was that also part of her facade?

 

The more he thought about his part six years of his life with her, the faster he began to forget her. He questioned every single memory he had of her, wondering if it was something worth keep close to his heart in the years to come or not. As he looked through each one, he began to realize what his life had been till then.

 

A lie. It was all a lie. She never loved him. He was a burden on her and the reason she took her own life. These past years of his life was just wasted time, believing in something that was never there. He believed his mother loved him with all her heart, but it wasn’t even remotely close to the truth. Even without a suicide note, he knew. He knew exactly why.

 

He wasn’t ever meant to be born.

 

**Feeling like now could never make up for then**

 

He didn’t know then that using Loki’s power would kill Wakaba Isshiki. He also didn’t know he’d one day meet her daughter.

 

To be honest with himself, he was first able to keep his composure, knowing that Futaba was the one he had orphaned on his first step towards revenge on his father. But the more he’d see her, the more he couldn’t shake the sickening feeling of guilt. 

 

He had felt it when he first realized what he had done when he killed her mother’s Shadow. But it was also mixed with the rush of adrenaline and hunger, his newfound power getting to his head. So, that guilt was almost immediately gone when he realized the kinds of catastrophes he could cause. And how he could exact the perfect revenge on his father with it.

 

But having to keep a straight face in front of her now that he was ‘part’ of the Phantom Thieves was the hardest thing he could imagine. And to make matters worse on him, he had just done the same thing to Haru: killed her father. 

 

Even if they ever found out, even if they ever forgave him, even if they decided to take his life in revenge, he could never forgive himself. Nothing he could say or do to anyone could make up for all the pain he has caused others. 

 

In comparison to his father, with what he did to the two girls, he wasn’t any better.

 

_ Life's not a game you can play to get even _

 

“Masayoshi Shido is finally within my grasp!”

 

This was a scene Akira wish he’d never have to see. He knew, somewhere, deep down in his heart, that this would happen, but just didn’t want it to ever be. He wasn’t okay with this. He wanted to do more for Akechi. But this...

 

“Once he reaches the apex of his power and acknowledges me, I’m going to whisper in his ear,” Akechi’s voice was hoarse as he spoke, relaying his master plan to them.“I will tell him the truth of who I really am!” Every inch of his body showed them the amount of weight alleviated from his heart when he let out the raw fury he’d been keeping in for so long. His hunched, open stance was one thing, but the way his hands trembled spoke volumes, too. It was as if he was letting a part of himself go in the moment, before their very eyes.

 

“And that’s when I--an utter disgrace to the world--will rule over him.” His grin was growing wider by the second, his eyes becoming strained and red.“I will prevail!” The self-hate that resonating in his voice echoed inside Akira’s heart. Despite all the horrible things Akechi indulged himself in, he couldn’t help but feel the pain in his voice himself.

 

It was all too much. Nobody should have to live this way. Nobody should be pushed this far.

 

“Will that truly make you happy, Akechi?” Akira dared to shoot the question to the deranged teen. “Will this truly put you at ease?” He could feel his eyes becoming wet in the very slightest, blinking several times to keep it from coming down his face. The way Akechi reacted to his inquiry was painful to watch as his anger grew, fights clenched into tighter fists, and a grumble rose from his throat. It seemed to put him into internal turmoil for a minute before he seemed to bounce back, yet remained rattled.

 

_ We all make mistakes, but we need to move on _

 

Akechi was attacking faster than Akira could change Personas, only scraping by the possibility of getting hit with a weakness. Each time his Personas reflected or cancelled out an attack, Akechi’s rage grew and grew, his voice growing strained as he screamed louder and louder. 

 

“Will you please stop!?” Akira could barely hear Ann’s pleaful cry over the sounds of attack after attack from both sides. “You’re fighting the wrong people!” She let out a short cry as she narrowly dodged an attack intended to silence her. No matter what Akechi did or said, she was right. And there was no denying it.

 

“Akechi, please listen!” Akira shouted above the combat and across the field. “We don’t wish to fight you! We just want to help!” He was too focused on speaking than fighting that he slipped up and took a hit. But that wouldn’t shake his determination.

 

“If you want to help, you can just die!” He barely managed to block Akechi’s attack once again. No matter how much anger he used, Akira could hear the sadness within him in his voice. It was as clear as day.

 

“We are  _ not _ leaving you behind!” 

 

“Why not?!” Akechi’s voice cracked, his attacks slowly down. “Everyone else has and eventually will! It wouldn’t make a difference if you did, too!” Again, there was that hint of pain in his voice. He could tell so much by now, how Akechi truly felt.

 

“You don’t have to be perfect! You’re a human! We’re all destined to make mistakes!”

 

Again, the older teen was taken aback by the compassion in both Akira’s words and voice. Akira could tell by his reaction that nobody had ever expressed such acceptance of him, for who he truly was.

 

_ I know that you hate when you stray _

 

Accident after accident. Report after report. Seeing all of it happen before his very eyes, the day after he killed a Shadow. For a time, it gave him a rush, a sense of power, a sense of control. As he watched, Loki’s familiar laughter echoed in his mind, getting louder after each and every successful kill. It fueled him, made him feel whole, like he had a purpose. 

 

But there were days where that stung. Where he sat through class in a daze as he heard his classmates murmur amongst each other about the sudden death of a girl’s father. They heard it was just like the others, a mental shutdown that lead to his passing. And that it was the reason his daughter wasn’t in school that day. 

 

“I heard she already tried to kill herself. She loved her father so much…”

 

His thoughts went back to that day, when she shoved her confession of love into his open hands and rushed away in embarrassment. How he chose himself over her and her way of life. Now, he’d changed hers forever--and not for the better. 

 

It hurt. It hurt so bad.

 

But the threats of his own father echoed in his mind. If he didn’t uphold his end of the bargain, it would be over. All the crimes he’d committed would’ve been all for naught. He was already too deep to turn back now. The only thing he could do now was look ahead, continue to plan the takedown of his father. 

 

And each time he felt his victim’s pain, it felt as though someone was repeatedly stabbing him, right through the heart. How what he was doing wasn’t much different from what his father had done...

 

_ Forgiving yourself is the only way _

 

“I know you’re sorry about it,”

 

Akechi’s thoughts were clouded so much, he had to physically shake his mind back into the conversation when Akira removed his hand and stood back up straight. The Shujin boy kept his gaze averted from him, but continued to speak in a soft voice.

 

“Now you just gotta forgive yourself, Akechi,” The words came out of his mouth as if they were nothing out of the ordinary, but, to Akechi, they were. To forgive himself: it was something that had never crossed his mind. It was something foreign to him, just as much as Akira and Sojiro’s forgiveness was. But how does anyone go about doing it? How did Akira forgive himself for his own mistakes? What about Sojiro? Hell, what about the other Phantom Thieves?

 

He couldn’t possibly do it. Not while he couldn’t forgive _that_ man...

 

_ Just look at ahead, yesterday is gone _

 

“I was such a fool! A damned idiot! A tool!”

 

Watching the black-masked teen pounded his fists, over and over again, on the ship’s steel flooring caused a pang in Akira’s chest. Watching as he returned to reality, bit by bit as the moments past, realizing what he had done, what he had been doing these past few years of his life. He wasn’t making the world a better place by exacting revenge on his father, he was making it scarier. He wasn’t doing much of any good carrying out the orders for terrible deeds. He should’ve known. He should’ve known it’d end up like this. All the warning signs…

 

Everyone’s faces were grim. Despite hearing his death threats only minutes before, their thoughts were entranced with all the things Akechi did in attempt to reach out for help, but they put it aside, not even considering his motives. The guilt was strong, and the air was tense around them to the point of becoming speechless. 

 

Akira wanted to tell him that it was okay, that everything was going to be alright. But he didn’t know. He had no clue as to what lied ahead of the lost boy. With how much he has endured his whole life, alone and without love, lying wouldn’t do anything but hurt him. But he couldn’t remain silent. It’s silence that drew this boy to the insanity he just awoke from.

 

“Goro,” Akechi’s clawed fingers curled, grasping at the floor beneath him. It was visible that he didn’t want another one of Akira’s inspirational speeches, not at a time like this. But he refused to remain silent.

 

He dared to inch the slightest forward, his concern on his friend, not himself. “You need to look forward,” He murmured, hardly audible to the other thieves. “There’s nothing you can do about the past now…”

 

Another pound of Akechi’s fists shook his allies behind him. What sounded like an injured baby animal rose from his throat, seemingly offended by Akira’s words. It brought curiosity to Akira and hoped Akechi would further elaborate, no words followed. Just more pounds of his fists and soft, quiet sobs.

 

_ I know you think you're being selfless, but you're not _

 

“Akechi!”

 

Not a reaction Akira expected out of Ryuji, banging his fists on the barrier like Akechi had been to the ground earlier. And his tone of voice. He could tell that even the vulgar, quick to judge, classmate of his was already willing to put the past behind him. Now that they all knew what had been brewing in Akechi’s mind for years, they could no longer be cold to him. It just didn’t feel right

 

And neither did leaving him behind. Even when Futaba pronounced him dead.

 

**I refuse to risk another's pain again**

 

He could hear their cries of shock and concern. But he could also hear the cries of agony they would make down the road. They overpowered the real ones, his mind making him believe they were real, that they were actually dying because of him, because of his selfish actions. He couldn’t take the chance. Not after what happened 12 years ago. Not after his mother showed him her true colors, her true emotions.

 

No matter what they said, he was doing this for their own good.

 

_ The pain is when you shut me out _

 

“That smile before we fought… Isn’t that how you truly feel?”

 

Judging by Akechi’s reaction, Morgana hit it right on the money. How the cat’s words struck a chord in him, and brought him to the point of pounding his fists on the steel flooring, begging for it to shut up. It intrigued Akira, hoping he would indulge more, but not to the point where they could seem him breaking. The flash of the black-masked figure before their eyes. They cracked his mask only to reveal another one under it. A step closer to him, but caused him more pain than just keeping his haywire emotions to himself. It was almost like a surgeon making the wrong incision during a life-saving operation. 

 

Akira hoped he wouldn’t give up, but seeing as so much dripped from his hurting friend, a part of him told him it was far too late. If he had only found out sooner...

 

_ Take off on your own _

 

Sitting away from everyone else in the safe rooms, being the least vocal one in the group chat. Although Akira had a strong idea why, it pained him to see that. It was as if Akechi was slipping right through his fingers, and each time he didn’t make a move, he lost him further. Just a bystander to the tragedy, just watching as it unfolded. Soon, it would be too late, and when Akira finally decided to take action, to make the effort to reach out to him, Akechi would be far out of his reach. 

 

_ No matter what _

_ You'll never walk alone _

  
  
  


**See you'll never understand what I feel, what I see**

 

“None of these people know that I was an undesirable child…”

 

They give him what he desired, all his life. Making him feel important. Needed. Loved. Special…

 

But, unlike others his age, he had to work for just the slightest feeling of belonging in the world. He knew too well from back when their version of Medjed was taken down by the Phantom Thieves that, in order to keep these warm feelings he felt from his fans and the public, he could never be in the wrong.

 

He was too pretty to be wrong.

 

**What's going through my mind, how it feels being me**

 

“Oooo! Look at that serious face!”

“He must be thinking really hard about those mental shutdown cases!”

“Or the Phantom Thieves! Oh wow… He’s just so passionate about keeping Tokyo safe…!”

 

If only they knew. If they only knew the truth. They just see him as an idol. A dreamboat. Eyecandy. Although they’ve been the ones to give him the most affection he’s ever gotten in his entire life in just the span of a day’s work, it tasted so fake, so artificial. 

 

If and when they find out who he truly is, they’ll all be gone in an instant. No second thoughts. No looking back.

 

**All the struggles, all the fights, long days, longer nights**

 

“Do you understand what it means to cross with me?!”

 

The harsh spike in his father’s tone sent chills down his spine. No matter how many times Shido has raised his voice at him, both in-person and over the phone, he could never get used to how angry he sounded.

 

The only difference between him and his past “foster parents” was...

 

“Just do as I ask. I’ll be counting on you,”

 

...That he has him under his adult thumb. Any wrong move and he’d end up dead. Or worse.

 

**Trying to search for this happiness lost in the light**

 

“Just a few more weeks…” He told himself, trying his very best to organize his flurry of thoughts in his mind. “Elections are just around the corner. You can do this, Goro….”

 

All these mental shutdowns were taking a toll. After the rush of making the kill dissipates, he’s left with a unbearably numb feeling throughout his body. Watching the news the days after, knowing  _ he  _ did this.  _ He  _ caused this. There was no need to search for a culprit. They resided inside him. There was no running.

 

But… This wasn’t just for him. He was doing this for her. He wasn’t sure if he would feel proud to tell her when they met again, but it was a must. 

 

Masayoshi Shido. He needs to pay for what he did to her. To him, his own son. To the two of them.

 

Mementos was always dreary, but as the time drew near, it felt bittersweet. The Shadows called his name. He could try and swim through them, but they just pooled at his feet, seemingly begging for the sweet release of death.

 

A heavy sigh escaped his lips, his breathing musky from the black helmet that encased his head. The Shadows around him made noises to the similarity of lust as he loaded the magazine into his gun.

 

“This is for you, Mommy…”

 

**But it seems that it's all just out of my sight**

**Just out of my reach, can't seem to get right**

 

No… This wasn’t it. This isn’t what he wanted. This isn’t enough.

 

He can just feel the way the butter oozed off their words. It was artificial, like those processed junk foods that you buy at the convenience store. Disgusting. Repulsive. Unhealthy.

 

Even those he’s trying his hardest to get what he’s always wanted, what he always needed, even with all his hard work to be someone worth it, they never truly gave much of a care. It was the fame, the looks, the “talent” that drew them in. But the ugliness inside is what will eventually drive them away.

 

...But, despite this, he ravishes over every single drop of that butter that he gets, getting off to the feeling of what true affection might be.

 

**Like I'm cursed with the turbulence placed in my life**

 

“It’s your fault she killed herself! You useless, worthless brat!”

“You shouldn’t even exist! You’re so unbelievably ungrateful for the life she gave you!”

“You never should have been born!”

“No wonder your father left you and your mother to rot! You’re a heap of trash!”

 

The voices from his memories shook his entire body. His gun slid out of his hand and hit the floor moments before he did.

 

He could hear them now.

 

“See!? We told you, Akechi! Your son is a stain on the family name! You should be ashamed of yourself, bring such a vile child into the world!”

“They all turn out like that! No child of mine would ever be like him.”

 

No matter how many times he reread her note.

 

“It’s not your fault, Goro. I… I just couldn’t take it anymore. The neighbors, my coworkers, my family... I tried and tried to keep you from the negativity they shout at me. I wanted to keep you pure. Innocent. Happy. But alas, I’m afraid it was all too much…”

 

Tears upon tears wet and dried on the yellowing, crumpled note each time he read it.

 

“I’m so sorry. I love you, Goro.”

 

The sobs were too strong to keep in. He wailed into the darkness of his apartment.

 

**Can't push or pull it, stuck up in this ball pit**

 

He could feel a sickening noise climb up his throat as he watched the Shadow fade into nothing. His past reasoning from minutes before were long gone in the war of his mind. The thrill of the kill. It was taking him over, once again, just as it has every time before. His goal was becoming nothing but a fading light in the distance.

 

**Cycle of pain, all the stress in my brain**

**I'm just trying to maintain, cause I'm going insane**

 

He didn’t give a rat’s ass who or what heard. With a deep inhale of air, he let the wicked laughs escape him. They echoed off the walls of Mementos, perking the interest of all the nearby Shadows. 

 

One by one, they arrived, lining up to be brutally slaughtered by his own two clawed hands. His mind was going blank. He had no control. Each and every one of them proved to be much weaker than him, whether that was true or just what he wanted to believe. 

 

Tears streamed down his face as he screamed, using all his energy on taking out his anguish on the monsters that were created by the ones that praised him.

 

_ But no matter what I do, the cries go unheard _

 

“Akechi!”

 

The detective moved no muscle, showed no sign of hearing him call out. He just stood there, his back to him, hands at his side.

 

“Akechi!!”

 

This was what the majority of his dreams consisted of. After Sae’s Palace, the interrogation room, he went to sleep knowing he would see him: Goro Akechi. The one who “killed” him. The one who approached him at the TV station back in June of that year. The one who expressed interest in his short, one-liners that were at no cost of effort to him.

 

And even though it was the same thing every night, he kept calling out to him. Despite knowing he’d get the same response.

 

Stillness.

 

**But I still believe in you, every breath, every word**

 

“Excellent work, Joker!”

 

Akira turns to see Akechi, donned in his white princely attire and a smile on his face. A white glove lightly touches his shoulder, giving an affirming squeeze, along with an intense, maroon gaze.

 

Even if it’s just a facade. A ruse. A plan to kill him once it was all over…

 

He placed a red hand atop the white that rested on his shoulder. Meeting the gaze of the owner, displaying shock, he squeezes it, taking in the warmth they shared in the moment.

 

“Same to you, Crow,”

 

**Every smile, every glance could be another chance**

 

“I don’t get it… Why would the Phantom Thieves…?”

 

Akira’s presence was immediately noticed, as Akechi turned his gaze from the depths of his second cup of coffee to the Shujin boy.

 

Before the boy detective could get a word out to his acquaintance, the younger one gave the older a smile, both with his lips and eyes. 

 

It was obvious he was taken by surprise, but the immediate response with a chuckle and  a smile back told much more than the third year probably intended to let on.

 

“Hello, Kurusu!”

 

**That you finally see the love that is me**

 

Akechi looked up from his phone to the sight of a pastry on a plate slid in from his peripheral. He gave it a wide-eyed gaze for a brief second before looking up at the familiar barista.

 

“I… didn’t order this…” He pointed at the awfully delicious looking slice of cake with a gloved hand. It was so tempting to just dismiss it and enjoy the pleasant fortune bestowed upon him on this raining day, but-

 

“I know,” Akira replied, not even glancing up from the sink across the cafe.

 

Another handful of moments passed as this obviously difficult case stumped him. Then he gave a bit of a lazy, fake laugh, as if being teased.

 

“Okay, but I’m not paying for it,” He gave a TV grin to the back of the younger’s black-haired head, delicately pushing the plate away from him.

 

“Of course you’re not,” He finally turns himself back around to Akechi and places a clean and dried fork next to the dessert. “It’s on the house,”

 

Before he could even begin to fathom as to why, Akira was back to the sink, washing the rest of the day’s dishes. It seems like he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

 

It was many moments before Akechi even picked up his fork to take a bite. But once he took that first bite, he was in delicious heaven. His confusion at Kurusu’s random gesture was soon in the back of his mind and the pure, exquisite taste filled his current thoughts, wondering whether it was him or Sojiro who made it.

 

Hearing his quiet mumbles of delight, Akira felt he made his small world a brighter place today.

 

**So until that time, I'll follow everyday**

 

“So? How does that sound?” 

 

Akechi’s plan wasn’t exactly disguised. It was far too obvious that setting a certain date to send the calling card was indeed a trap, part of his ulterior motive. On top of that, it was visibly hard for the rest of the Phantom Thieves to feign ignorance, especially Futaba and Haru. 

 

The air was tense.

 

“Sure,”

 

Akira’s response didn’t receive much of a recoil from his friends, but he knew his calmness gave them a little uneasiness. He’d been like that since Akechi approached them at the culture festival weeks before.

 

But the smile on Akechi’s face made it all worthwhile.

 

**Every step of the way, and continue to say**

 

“Crow,”

 

The long-beaked teenager turned his head from the first Shadow he’d fight in front of the very gang he was pursuing. The voice came from Joker, stoic as it always seemed to be.

 

He gave a red-gloved thumbs up.

 

“I believe in you,”

 

**_Go where you need to_ **

**_Know I won't leave you_ **

**_I'll follow you like morning follows night_ **

**_You can run till your pain's through_ **

**_One thing I won't do_ **

**_Is to let you go alone to face the fight_ **

**Author's Note:**

> FINALLY. Finished after procrastinating for a few months :'''p
> 
> Song: Like Morning Follows Night - Jeff Williams (from RWBY)


End file.
